


Pretty Boy

by imminentcalamity



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: But I guess it's not considering some people's tags are longer than their stories, I really don't have a clue how to tag, I swear I'm going to update soon, I'm Going to Hell, So I'm going to go write my story instead of worrying about tags, Spencer is kidnapped again oh no, Stuff and Things happen, Stuff happens, There are tons of cliffhangers, This is getting really long, things happen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-11
Updated: 2016-11-30
Packaged: 2018-03-30 04:22:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3922732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imminentcalamity/pseuds/imminentcalamity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Who are y-" With a swift backhand to the face, Spencer was silenced, yet again. The force interrupted his balance and he swayed a bit before falling onto his back. The man stood above him, weapon pointed at his head.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Criminal Minds fanfiction. It's set in season 4. (That's where I am currently at in the series.) This is just the introduction, chapters will be longer! If you see any mistakes, please don't hesitate to tell me. Also... Jeff... Yeah I couldn't think of any clever names.

It started off as a normal night. Alone in his apartment, Spencer Reid curled up in the warm comfort of his bed, surrounded by several piles of books. He let out a short yawn. Then, set down the book he was currently reading, The Sun Also Rises by Ernest Hemingway, and glanced over at his alarm clock. The time, 2:43, glared at him with a bright red, bold font. He rubbed his eyes wearily and sat up. He had lost track of time again, and had to be at work early in the morning. He felt sort of guilty for depriving himself of sleep for the third day in a row.

He reached out and gathered all of his precious novels in a pile and wiggled off of the bed. Walking to the living room, he made sure to pick up any stray books lying around on his way to the bookshelf. It took him several minutes to organize the books alphabetically.

Returning to his bedroom, he realized he was still in his work clothes. He quickly rid himself of his dress pants, long-sleeved shirt, and sweater vest and slipped into something more comfortable, a t-shirt and sweatpants. He once again entwined himself in the sheets, this time turning off the light and shutting his eyes.

He was just on the edge of slumber when there was a knocking on the front door. He muttered to himself in annoyance and checked the clock again before wrestling out of his covers. It was now 3:17. He paused, none of his neighbors would be up this late. As a precaution, he grabbed his gun from a safe box kept underneath his bed and shoved it in the waistband of his pants. Then, he leaned over and unplugged his clock. He shuffled over to the door and squinted as he looked through the peephole, he forgot to put on his glasses.

He let out a sigh of relief when he saw his neighbor, Jeff, standing in the hallway. He opened the door, "Hey, what's wrong? Shouldn't you be aslee..." He was cut off as a figure with a ski mask stepped into his view, pointing a gun at the trembling man. Spencer stared wide eyed at the scene in front of him. The masked intruder shoved Jeff to the side, signalling him to go back to his apartment. Jeff ran off quickly.

"Who are y-" With a swift backhand to the face, Spencer was silenced, yet again. The force interrupted his balance and he swayed a bit before falling onto his back. The man stood above him, weapon pointed at his head. "If you try anything, I shoot. Got it?" He spoke in a deep grisly voice.

Spencer ignored his threat and quickly reached for the gun at his side. The man reacted faster than him and knocked the kid over with a blow to the jaw. As Spencer recollected himself, the assailant ripped the gun away from him and tossed it to the other side of the room. He then proceeded to pick the boy up by the shirt, "You're lucky I need you alive, otherwise your precious brain would be splattered all over the ceiling." He growled.

Spencer spat at him, "You're just a coward." The man disapproved of this and threw him roughly to the ground. The back of Spencer's head hit the tiled floor with a resounding thud and immediately made his vision falter. The man pulled something from his pocket and bent down next to him. The last thing Spencer saw before he drifted into unconsciousness, was the needle of a syringe entering the crook of his arm.

**10:15 a.m, BAU office,**

Derek Morgan entered the bullpen. He was 15 minutes late, as per usual. When he reached his desk, he glanced over at the unoccupied chair of their one and only boy genius. Frowning, he walked over to the snack area. Seeing that Spencer was not there getting coffee with his cup of sugar, he tracked down another team member for answers. In this case, Emily Prentiss. She sat at her desk writing a case report.

"Hey princess," He greeted, "Have you seen pretty boy around?"

She looked up at him, "Spencer? No, I haven't seen him. I thought he was with you. Figured it would explain why he's late."

He let out a puff of air, "No, I'll ask around." He nodded to her as a quick goodbye and set off in the direction of Aaron Hotchner's office. He rapped his knuckles on the door, not wanting to disturb him if he was on the phone.

"Come in." He heard his boss's monotone voice call through the wooden door.

Derek opened it and partially leaned in through the doorway, "Hey, Hotch, Have you seen Reid today?" Hotch frowned and looked through his window out into the bullpen, "You mean he's not here?" Derek nodded.

Hotch's frown seemed to get more intense as he turned to type in Spencer's number on his work phone. "He's never this late."

Derek heard him mutter as he picked up the receiver. After ringing several times, it went directly to voicemail. "Hello, you've reached the phone of Dr. Spencer Reid. I can't come to the phone right now, but if you leave a message I will get back to you as soon as I can. Thank you." Derek rolled his eyes at the unnecessarily long message. He would have to fix that later.

Hotch's mouth formed a thin line, "He doesn't miss calls from me either, he knows to pick up the phone when I call him." He stood up quickly, grabbing his jacket. "Derek, tell Rossi that me and you are going to Reid's house." Derek nodded for what seemed like the twentieth time and ran off to do just that.

**10:34 a.m, Reid's apartment,**

Hotch and Derek climbed the stairs to Reid's apartment as fast as they could. Pausing in front of the door, they held their pistols out in front of them as they caught their breath. Derek first knocked on the door. Getting no response, Hotch turned the knob, alarmed when it was unlocked. He pushed the door open.

"There's blood." Derek observed as they entered the living/dining area. He bent down next to the red splotch on the floor. "Not too much, likely from a head wound."

Hotch nodded grimly, "Reid?" He called.

As his eyes gazed around the room, a silver object stole his attention. "Derek, his gun." He gestured towards it and turned to examine his surroundings.

The apartment was small, with the kitchen, dining room, and living room all in the same giant area. The only other closed off rooms were the bathroom and Spencer's bedroom. He approached the bedroom. The door was open. He entered and noted the glasses and outdated cell phone lying on the side table. He sighed and put his gun back in his holster. Turning away from the bed and facing the wall, he pulled out his phone from his pocket and dialed Rossi's number.

"Rossi." The man on the other end answered.

"Dave," Hotch said with a muted anger and slight apprehension to his usually emotionless voice, "He's gone."


	2. Chapter One: Beautiful Mind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is another chapter! I wrote this one fairly quickly compared to my other stories. I'm already almost done with chapter 3! The chapters should be getting longer after this! If there are any mistakes please tell me. Also, this is set in season 4. (If you forgot.) I used a poem from Edgar Allan Poe, don't beat me up over it. (It's called: Sonnet-To Science.) Please suggest quotes or poems you think Reid should recite. :)

**Last time:**

Turning away from the bed and facing the wall, Hotch pulled out his phone from his pocket and dialed Rossi's number.

"Rossi." The man on the other end answered.

"Dave," Hotch said with a muted anger and slight apprehension to his usually emotionless voice, "He's gone."

* * *

"What do you mean? Gone?" Rossi questioned.

Hotch reverted downcast eyes to the floor, "There are signs of a struggle. Albeit there isn't much to go on, it's safe to assume that he did not leave his home on his own free will."

He could hear Dave's voice hitch, "Did he leave anything behind?"

Hotch glanced back at the bedside table. "His glasses and cellphone are here," He stepped closer to see if there was anything else, "He unplugged the clock."

He picked it up and examined it. A logo caught his attention. "It has memory storage. It can probably tell us an estimate time that he was abducted." He bent down and plugged the cord in the outlet. The time, 3:17, blinked to life. He wrote it down on a notepad he had found on Spencer's desk.

"Morgan and I are going to look around, I'll call you back." Hotch stated.

"Alright, I will be awaiting news." Rossi agreed, then the line went dead. Hotch returned his phone to his pocket and marched back into the living room.

"Anything?"

He directed the question at Derek, although he didn't look exactly at him. His eyes were busy taking in his surroundings. Derek stood from his crouched position, "Should we be alarmed by this? Or," He held a syringe in his now gloved fingers.

Hotch shook his head. "No, we would have seen the signs if he was using again. He would be on-edge and cranky. He would be more alert and would not carelessly leave evidence like this laying around." Derek looked at him with a frown, "What happened to the 'no profiling your teammates' rule?"

"We are profilers, it's kind of hard not to." Derek looked away, Hotch was right, of course. He nodded grimly, "Right. So what do we do now, Hotch?"

Hotch scanned the area once more before answering, "Let's get a crime scene crew over here. We need this area sectioned off, and they can find any evidence that we may have missed.

Derek agreed and placed the syringe on the kitchen counter. "I'll contact them."

He stepped into the hallway to make the call. Hotch figured this would be the perfect time to tell Rossi that they would be leaving shortly.

He answered on the second ring, "Rossi."

"Dave, Morgan and I are leaving soon, we called the crime scene investigators to take over from here."

"Thanks for telling me. Drive safely."

Hotch ended the call and met with Derek in the hallway, who was also finishing his call. "They'll be here in ten minutes. Do you want to go now or wait for them?" Derek asked his superior.

"We can wait."

**11:21, BAU Office,**

20 minutes later, they found themselves in the elevator on their way up to the bullpen. Hotch looked to Derek, noticing his overall gloomy vibe. He cleared his throat, causing Derek to focus his attention on him. "We are going to find him. Don't worry." He tried to reassure the younger agent.

"Don't worry? Hotch, he's like a brother to me. " Derek protested. Hotch quieted him with a simple, "I know."

The elevator's movement slowed and there was a quiet ding as the doors swished open, revealing a distraught and concerned Emily. "Is Reid okay?" She asked as they stepped out. Derek would have answered, but Hotch spoke before he had a chance.

"We need everyone in the briefing room."

"When?" She questioned.

"Yesterday." He huffed as he stepped around her. Derek shrugged at her as an apology and hurried after his boss. Emily shook her head with exasperation and went to inform Garcia of the sudden meeting.

**11:31, BAU Briefing Room,**

They all gathered around the table fairly quickly, with the exception of Garcia and, of course, Reid. Garcia wasn't too far behind, however, and was merely the last to enter. She set up her laptop in it's usual spot and sat down in front of it. Her eyes gazed around the room. "Where's boy wonder?" She asked, noting the vacated chair where he usually sat. It was quiet. It took about a minute for someone to answer.

"That's," Hotch began, and hesitated. "That's why we are here." Derek was glad she was sitting down, otherwise she might have fainted. "Oh god." She muttered with wide eyes, her hand came up to meet her mouth in shock. Emily, who was sitting the closest to her, pat her arm as reassuringly as she could. "I'm sure he's okay." She said in an attempt to console the distraught tech goddess. "Yeah..." Garcia agreed half-heartedly.

Hotch, who stood in front of the evidence board, cleared his throat. "Derek and I have been to Reid's apartment. There were signs of a struggle, and, although a miniscule amount, some blood was found on the premises," He pretended to not hear Garcia's stifled gasp.

"At this point, we can only assume that he was forced to leave against his will." He worded his last sentence differently, purposely not using such words as kidnapped, taken, or abducted. His team needed to remain calm, or they would be reliving Tobias Hankel all over again.

Realizing the the group had been silent for an agonizing amount of time, he continued, "His clock was found unplugged. It had memory storage. I assume that Reid knew something was wrong, and left that clue to tell us an estimate time that he was.." His voice trailed off, but he quickly continued to speak.

"It is now," He checked the clock on the wall, "11:36, which means that he has been gone for approximately eight hours and nineteen minutes. We can only guess that we may only have twelve hour left, more or less."

**?, Unknown Location,**

Spencer awoke to a throbbing head and the feeling of metal against his back. It felt sickeningly like an autopsy table. His fears multiplied when he attempted to move his arms and legs, all of which were bound to what can be considered a table. He moaned quietly, he still had yet to open his eyes, but he could see the light through his eyelids. He blinked up at the light overhead, almost crying out when the light stabbed through his eyes and assaulted his brain. When the pain subsided, he became aware that it was harder to see. He squinted, wishing he had his glasses or contacts.

"Recite something for me." A deep voice spoke up beside him.

He flinched, startled. The sudden movement brought forth an unbearable wave of pain, and he winced. His breath shuddered, "W-What?" He asked weakly. His voice was hoarse, his throat dry.

"Recite something for me." The voice repeated.

Spencer attempted to move his head to the side to get a look of the unsub, but his neck and head protested and he cried out. "No. I might have a concussion."

"No?" He heard the voice repeat questioningly.

There was a snarl of rage and a sudden harrowing pain erupted inside of his abdomen. He was too out of it to know what it was. He let out a choked gasp.

"Recite."

Spencer ran his tongue over his chapped lips. "Any suggestions?" He whispered, his voice cracking when a surge of pain rippled through his body. There was a moment of silence. If it were any quieter, he could have sworn he heard the gears turning inside his captor's head.

"Do you know Poe?"

"Yes."

"Recite."

"Is there a certain text?"

"Any is fine. Recite."

Spencer nodded slowly. He took a deep breath. It hurt to talk, he was in pain.

"Science! True daughter of Old Time thou art," He began, interrupted by a coughing fit. When he recovered, he continued.

"Who alterest all things with thy peering eyes. Why preyest thou thus upon the poet's heart, Vulture, whose wings are dull realities? How should he love thee? Or how deem thee wise, who wouldst not leave him in his wandering. To seek for treasure in the jewelled skies, albeit he soared with an undaunted wing? Hast thou not dragged Diana from her car, and driven the Hamadryad from the wood. To seek a shelter in some happier star? Hast thou not torn the Naiad from her flood, The Elfin from the green grass,"

He noticed the other person in the room was being unusually quiet, "And from me the summer dream beneath the tamarind tree?" He finished. He was about to begin another excerpt, but the scraping of a chair made him hesitate.

"Excellent." The voice said, now higher up rather than next to him. He surmised that the man had stood up. A hand gripped his chin and moved his head to the side. He barely managed to stifle a pained gasp.

He gazed up at a black mask.

"You have a beautiful mind, Doctor Reid."

Spencer frowned, disappointed that he couldn't see who the unsub was. "I suggest you rest, it would be a shame if you tarnished it." The man finished.

Suddenly, Spencer realized how exhausted he actually was. He did not want to heed his captor's advice, but his eyes had already begun to close. Just a few minutes, he promised himself. As he drifted off into slumber, he could almost inconceivably feel fingers combing through his hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Should I continue? Please review! Also, if you have suggestions for poems, excerpts, stories, or anything else that you think Reid should recite, please tell me!


	3. Chapter Two: Last Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: I realized that I have been using Derek and Spencer's first names, and the team usually calls them by their last names. I Hotch calls Rossi 'Dave.' :P. oops ehe. I fixed it for this chapter. And, I'm on season 5 now and I don't really know anything about where Reid lives? If it showed his house or apartment or something on the show then I must have forgotten or not watched that episode yet. :/ AND, I will try to use quotes for every chapter, starting now! (I will go back and add quotes to the beginning chapters as well.
> 
> I wrote this as fast as I could so you wouldn't have to wait so long! I hope it's as good as the previous chapters. I had a bit of trouble with writer's block on this one! I'm sure the quality of this chapter isn't as good as the others. :( I know ultimately what I want to happen in the next chapter, but this one was really hard. I guess you could think of this as filler? 
> 
> ANYWAY, I also wanted to tell you all about another Reid-centric story I am writing. Here is a Summary:
> 
> This is a weird AU where Reid is still in college, he's fifteen, and the team is Hotch, JJ, Derek, Rossi, and Prentiss. ( Because I'm on season 5 and there's nothing you can do to stop me :V ) So, murders are going on around Reid's college and the BAU fly to Las Vegas to find out what the heck is going on. Reid unfortunately ends up on their list of suspects based on nothing more than the degrees he is working on!
> 
> Enjoy!

_"Anybody can become angry - that is easy, but to be angry with the right person and to the right degree and at the right time and for the right purpose, and in the right way - that is not within everybody's power and is not easy." -Aristotle_

**11:39 a.m, Briefing Room,**

"What do we do next?" Derek asked. "Any ideas, Hotch?"

Hotch was silent for a moment, thinking. "We should question Reid's neighbors. One of them could have seen or heard something. Also, let's find out if the building has security cameras." The team silently nodded in agreement.

"Morgan and Prentiss, you ask tenants on the floor below his apartment. JJ, you and I will question those on his floor. Dave, you get in contact with security or the owners of the building. Request access to indoor and outdoor cameras, if any. It's only a two story building so we should finish fairly quickly."

The team exited the room, Hotch remained in his place.

"You coming?" JJ broke his train of thought. He blinked quickly to remove the cobwebs from his mind. "Yes, let me grab my credentials from my office."

"I'll meet you outside." She smiled and withdrew herself from the room. After gathering the things he needed from his office, he made his way outside. JJ was the only one there. She leaned against the passenger door of one of their signature black SUVs. "Where is everyone?" He questioned.

"They left. Wanted to get there as fast as they could."

He nodded knowingly. Spencer was the little brother of the pack. Although, he was more son-like to Rossi and Hotch.

"Alright. Let's catch up with them." He walked around to the other side of the car and pulled open the driver's side door. He climbed in and turned it on. After waiting for both of them to be buckled, he pulled out of the area and they were soon on their way.

**12:03 p.m, Apartment Building,**

_Knock. Knock._ "Hello, Who are you?" A middle aged man answered the door. Hotch and JJ held up their badges. "FBI, May we ask you a few questions?"

JJ replied.

The man nodded nervously, "Y-Yes. Please come in." He pulled back from the door to give them enough space to enter. "Thank you, sir." JJ smiled and followed Hotch inside.

"Would you like anything to drink? Water? Coffee?" The man offered.

"No. This will only take a minute." Hotch stated.

"O-Okay." The man stuttered as he led them to a pair of sofas that faced each other. The tv was on, but there was no noise. It silently played the midday news.

"Please. Sit down." He said as he sat on the couch facing the two agents. They complied and sat. "Can we have your name please?" JJ asked.

"My name is Jeff," He hesitated. "Davies."

Hotch made a mental note of his nervousness.

"Where were you this morning, around 3 a.m?" He inquired, not missing the fear and recognition that passed through the man's features. "In my bed. Sleeping. That's what people are usually doing at 3 am." He answered a little too quickly.

"Have you ever been acquainted with Spencer Reid?" The man paled. "H-He's a nice kid," He started, visibly trying to calm his nerves. "He lives in the flat down the hall. Why?"

"He was kidnapped about 9 hours ago." Hotch stated grimly. "Dear God.." He muttered.

"Did you hear anything last night or this morning?"JJ interrupted his thoughts. Jeff seemed lost in thought, "No," He said after a few seconds, "I was asleep." He stood, "I need a drink, hold on."

He returned quickly with a glass of water. He took a sip as he sat down. "I just remembered. There are some college kids who live on this always stay up until around four in the morning." JJ and Hotch shared a look.

"Do you know which apartment is theirs?" Hotch's brows raised as he asked the question. "Yeah. 246."

"That's across the hall from Reid." Hotch confirmed.

"Thank you for your time." JJ said to Jeff as they stood. "Come back if you need anything." He answered and walked with them to the door.

**CMCMCMCM**

"He avoided eye contact and hesitated when we asked him where he was last night." JJ observed as they walked down the corridor. "He knows something." Hotch muttered bitterly.

They stopped in front of a door marked 246. "Let's get this over with." She said more to herself than anything.

As JJ and Hotch questioned a bunch of unmistakably stoned or drunk college students, Morgan and Prentiss were busy interrogating a sweet old lady.

"Where were you last night?" Derek asked.

"What are my cats rights? Well, I wish I knew young man."

Emily had to stifle a laugh. "Where were you last night?" Derek repeated, pronouncing each syllable.

"Oh, forgive me," The kind lady laughed, "My hearing is not what it used to be." Emily turned away and covered her grin with her hand. Derek didn't seem to notice. "Hmm, well I went to the pharmacy around nine and when I came home I went to bed." She answered. Derek let out a quiet sigh.

"Do you know Spencer Reid?"

"Excuse me? Do I know panty raids?" Emily had to leave the room. This time, Derek could hear her snorting in the kitchen.

**2:45 p.m,**

Rossi, Prentiss, and Morgan were already outside when Hotch and JJ exited the building. The three agents were leaning against one of the SUVs. From the looks on their faces, it was easily visible they were drained from the day's events. "Hey, Hotch. JJ." Derek grinned as they approached the tired trio.

Hotch nodded to him and turned to Rossi, "We saw that there were cameras in the hallways. Did you manage to get the footage?"

"Yeah," He responded, "The badge wasn't enough at first, but I ended up convincing them. I already sent the tapes to Garcia."

Hotch thanked him and looked at Derek and Emily, "Find anything?" Emily put her hand to her lips again as she stifled a laugh. Derek rolled his eyes, "Just a bunch of people claiming that they were sleeping, and a few ladies with hearing problems."

Emily leaned over and whispered "Panty Raid" in his ear, causing him to look at her in defeat. "Please don't remind me." He groaned.

"Hey," Rossi spoke up, "I know none of us are feeling up to it, but I think we should go get lunch, while we look over the information we have."

When Derek and JJ began to protest, he held up a hand, "Now listen. We won't be able to help Reid if we neglect our own needs. We can't find him if our health is failing."

The two grew silent, and ultimately agreed. "Okay." They muttered in unison.

**?, Unknown Location,**

Reid awoke with a start. His body had apparently forgotten of the pain, and he almost cried out when his body suddenly seized up. He hissed through his gritted teeth as pain shot through his body, especially in the abdominal area. He still felt groggy, no doubt from the concussion that still hadn't healed. He blinked several times, this time noticing that the lights were dimmed, unlike the previous time he had woken up. He moved his arms, eyes widening when he found them free of any bondage. He moved his legs and gained the same result.

Confusion set in his mind. Dozens of questions berated him. He merely shook his head to clear his mind and sat up slowly. He heard himself groan when he had successfully done so. He swung his legs off the side of the table.

His eyes gazed around the room. A chair sat beside him, a metal door a few feet behind that, bare walls. He looked to the floor, "I hope that's red paint." He whispered when he spotted splotches on the ground.

After observing the area, he examined himself for any injuries. He was overjoyed when he found out he was still half-clothed. His shirt was gone.

In it's place was a bandage, stained red in the center, wrapped around the lower half of his torso. His eyes widened. "Oh God..." He whimpered when he realized, "He stabbed me. That's what it was."

A loud noise cause him to jump, and he was clutching his stomach when the door opened. "Good, you seem to have gotten a lot of rest." The man still donned a mask. Although, this time he was carrying a tray of food. He set it on the table next to the young genius. "Before you ask, no, it's not poisoned. Why would I want to get rid of a mind as precious as yours?" Spencer stared at him in disbelief, "I-I.."

"Eat." The man said once more, and disappeared from the room. Spencer looked down at the tray, on it was a bottle of water, soup, and a sandwich. His mouth watered, but he refused to eat any of it. He picked it up and placed it on the chair in front of him, and curled into a ball on the table. He felt tired anyway.

Soon, he fell asleep once again. 


	4. Chapter Three: The Hard Way

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did anyone catch Jeff's name? Jeff Davies? Eh? Eh? As in Jeff Davis? With an extra ‘e’? Eh?  
> Wow. i'm lame. Oh well. At least it's not as bad as my Reid puns.
> 
> This chapter took a little bit to write for a few reasons. My mom forgot to pay the internet bill and it was shut off for a week, I was studying for finals, and because I recently have made it to season eight and I’m dealing with the emotional trauma of Zugzwang and Magnum Opus. 
> 
> On the bright side, I finally know what Reid’s apartment looks like and I might go back to previous chapters to change the description.
> 
> ANYWAY, I wanted to thank all of you for your reviews. :) I'm so glad you are all enjoying my story. 
> 
> Now that I have the beginning over with, I can actually focus on writing what I wanted to write in the first place. :o 
> 
> In this chapter, we finally get some sort of time stamp for Reid, and a whole bunch of stuff goes down.  
> (I was craving burritos when I wrote the first part.)  
> Here is the new chapter! :D

_“Live so that your friends can defend you, but never have to.” - Arnold H. Glasgow_

__

The team eventually decided on grabbing takeout on their way back to headquarters. They avoided getting Chinese, it reminded them too much of the time Reid had struggled to use chopsticks and called them pencils.

Sitting back with a burrito, Garcia licked her lips. She knew she shouldn't be eating at a time like this. She was supposed to be sad. But, the mexican food made her mouth water and she couldn't help taking a bite.

As she chewed, she looked around at her team. Derek had stabbed his taco with a fork and was busy pushing the insides around the wrapper. Emily was barely nibbling on hers, and JJ refused to order anything at all. The only two, excluding herself, that seemed to be eating were Rossi and Hotch. But even then, the two were multitasking, discussing things everytime they had cleared their mouths.

Each member of the team had their eyes trained on a television on the wall, which was playing the footage from the apartment building’s security cameras. They had started watching it ten minutes prior, and the time stamp at the bottom of the screen read ten at night. So far things were normal.

"Garcia," Hotch set his burrito down and looked at her, "I need you to run a search on missing persons and unsolved murders for anyone around the age of and/or resembling Reid physically." She looked down at the closed laptop in front of her. "Okay." She opened it and rubbed the mouse to wake it from sleep mode.

The rest of the room remained silent for a few minutes. No one spoke, or dared to, and the only sound was the tapping of Garcia's fingers against the keyboard and the familiar crunching sound of wrappers.

"Hotch." Derek spoke up after a moment. He was obviously angry, "Are we just going to sit here? We need to do something!" He stabbed his taco again in frustration and left the fork there.

Hotch leaned forward in his chair, "Morgan, you know perfectly well that, currently, there is nothing we can do. None of the interviews were conclusive, and we barely have enough information to come up with a working profile.”

 

Derek dropped his head into his palms, he knew Hotch was right. His hands clenched into fists on his forehead, "God dammit." He mumbled.

Before anything else eventful could happen, Hotch’s phone vibrated on the table. He picked it up and looked at the caller ID before he answered. “Hotchner.” He spoke into the receiver.

“Yes. I understand. We’ll be there in five minutes.” His worried expression betrayed his usual calm demeanor. He ended the call and shoved the phone in his pocket as he stood up.

“What is it?” Emily asked, concerned.

He looked at the group, each member individually, before explaining. “A body was just found near Capital Plaza Apartments. They are unable to identify it.”

“That’s where Reid lives,” Garcia confirmed in a whisper. “Do you think..” She couldn’t finish her sentence.

“Me and Rossi will go to the scene, everyone else stays here. Garcia, continue searching.”

Hotch and Rossi left before anyone could argue.

**About 3 in the evening, Unknown,**

Reid found himself waking up. Again. At this point, he was tired of being tired. He groaned as he moved into a sitting position. The injury inflicted to his stomach stung and he grimaced.

When the pain subsided, he chanced a look about the room again. The food he had placed on the chair before he had passed out was gone, and the walls seemed to be spread farther out than he had originally thought.

He carefully moved his legs to the side of the table.

Then, at a painstakingly slow speed, he slid off the surface and planted his feet on the ground. He was surprised at how warm the floor was. This caused him to look down.

His eyes gazed at the mismatched socks on his feet. One was plain green and the other was striped purple and white. This brought an irresolute smile to his face, he still had at least an ounce of his own identity.

_Klank!_

The noise brought his attention to the metal vault-like door. It screeched against the floor as it opened. “Good evening, Doctor. I brought you some food. Maybe you will eat it this time.”

Spencer didn’t respond.

“Please don’t give me the silent treatment, Spencer. It’s quite childish and rude.” The door closed behind the new arrival. “On the contrary, I was hoping you could tell me another story.”

“Why?” Spencer played with a loose end of the bandages adorning his stomach.

“Are you asking me why I want you to tell me another story, or why you are here? Be more specific, you’re so hard to talk to.” The newcomer placed a tray on the wooden chair.

“Why-” He cleared his throat, “Why am I here?”

The man threw his head back in a hefty laughter.

“I was honestly hoping you would say that.” He said when he finished.

“The truth is, Doctor Reid,” He moved in closer to the young genius with every word, “I’ve been watching you for some time now. I find your work…exhilarating.” He reached out a hand to brush away loose strands of hair from the younger’s face.

Spencer flinched and kicked him between the knees.

As the man doubled over, he raced to the door, grabbed the handle, and pulled.

It wouldn’t budge.

“No. No no no no.” He muttered under his breath.

He glanced back and saw his captor already recovering from the blow. He desperately pounded his fist on the door, “Help!”

In the back of his mind, he knew know one would hear. But, that thought was pushed back by the sheer panic coursing throughout his body.

_Thud, Thud, Thud!_ “Help me!”

Hands grabbed his shoulders and pulled him roughly to the ground. He lay flat on his back, sucking in the air that was knocked out of his lungs. The bandages around his stomach were loosened, and bright red seeped through to the top layer.

“For a genius, you are really stupid.” The man spat down at him from his standing position. He leaned over Spencer, placing his foot on the sensitive area on his abdomen.

Spencer grimaced, “Don’t.”

He pressed his foot down, earning a pained gasp from the unlucky doctor below.

“G-Get off.” Spencer grunted and grabbed the man’s ankle, attempting to pry it off. This only caused him to push down harder, eliciting a scream from the boy. Spencer weakly punched his leg with clenched fists.

“Please, get off, I ca-can’t breathe.”

After a moment’s consideration, and he removed the weight from Spencer’s stomach.

“I didn’t want to hurt you,” he said as he crouched down to look the doctor in the eyes, “I had to teach you a lesson.”

Spencer took deep breaths and nodded tepidly, “I’m sorry.” He barely managed to answer in a whisper.

“I’m afraid that isn’t enough.”

Spencer felt his heart pound faster, “I don’t understand.”

The man stood and straightened to his full height, “That is discouraging.” He bent down and picked up his battered captee’s arms, dragging him over to the neglected chair.

“No, No no no,” He cried silently, “Please, not again.” He was roughly hoisted into the seat.

“Please.”

His wrists were handcuffed in front of him, and his ankles chained to the legs of the chair. He let his head fall forward and a sob rip from his throat.

“Stop blubbering. I’ll be right back.” The man said before departing.

True to his word, he returned in less than three minutes. What he held in his hand made him freeze.

A gun. A government issued model.

“This creep is working for the bureau.” Spencer angrily thought

_Sh-chik._

__

He looked up, the man had it pointed at him. “You need to learn things the hard way, don’t you?”

Spencer shook his head, “No, I’m sorry. Don’t-”

  
A shot rang out and everything faded into darkness.


	5. I'm Sorry :(

I know everyone was really looking forward to this story continuing (and I'm an ass for getting your hopes up.) The fact of the matter is, I can't finish it. I wrote out the entire chapter and even then it seemed half-assed and unworthy of being posted. And that wasn't even why I didn't post. I lost all of my progress. I don't know how but the whole story was deleted from my computer. You're probably saying, "Really? That's everyone's excuse." Well yeah, it's my excuse. It helped me realize I just can't. I'm simply not interested in this story anymore, I haven't watched Criminal Minds in over eight months, and all the motivation for this story has fallen flat. I tried entering it at different angles, rewriting an entire plot, making twists and turns, and nothing worked. I truly can't apologize enough for this. I just CAN'T finish it. It's not just this story though. I have at least ten other (unposted) stories that will never be finished or see the light of day. I'm really very sorry. I may come back to this story in the future, but right now it seems unlikely. If anyone wants to adopt this you're free to, but please send me a link. :)


	6. ATTENTION!!!!

This story has been adopted by Pepsi_and_Pony on Wattpad (.com) and has already been given another chapter. :)

**Author's Note:**

> I originally wrote this for Literature Club at school. I liked the plot so I decided to continue it.


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